It alludes me.
And not just because I can only drink chocolate milk from a glass as opposed to plastic, or because I can’t stand the song Patio Lanterns, or because I grew up thinking musical pork chops was a real game.
And now you’re dying to hear about that last one, aren’t you?
But because when you learn to live with a mood disorder that wants to turn what’s considered normal upside down, or erase how you’ve always defined normal all together, you figure out pretty quickly how to shed all expectation and get down to the business of recognizing what your normal might have to look like from here on out.
Okay, so I have never done a post like this, but I thought this could be an interesting undertaking for me on the blog. I noticed several others having so much FUN with this, and I thought, “We totally could use more fun over here!”
And the thing is, this feels a wee bit like the blog’s Weekend Mash-up, the weekend newsletter every subscriber to the blog gets in their inbox but just a tad more personal. And not to be taken too seriously, much like the Mash-up.
(What? Not an email subscriber? Well its super easy, and you’ll find the option right across from us in the right hand column…)
So after some reflection, which I must admit, resulted in me journaling a new prayer out to the Father in regards to a new month coming, and smiling over some memories I hadn’t thought much about, I’ve come up with a random list of what I learned in May as a person, as a believer, as a writer. Here we go:
Has God ever used something simple to speak into you with?
I stood in my driveway this weekend past, and watched with delight as the good people in my community celebrated Victoria Day with fireworks in the park across the street, and late bbq’s, and children still out after dark shouting ooo’s and ahhhh’s with every colourful explosion.
Someone had oldies blaring from an open window and the sounds mixed with the rockets and the clapping and the scent of lilacs mixed with the smoke from every firework in the night, and top that with the grills still lit with good food, and the night just felt… right.
Maybe I’m just soft and sentimental.
I have this thing in my life that would love to make me a slave. Perhaps you nod a knowing yes to this statement because you have something dogging you right now as well.
My particular battle is with Dysthymic Disorder, also known as chronic depression, and to allow it to rule my life would be a heavy, unruly kind of slavery.
How do I know? Because it has in the past and it still tries to now.
Almost every day. For huge chunks of the last 30 years. And every time it attempts to hold me hostage again, I am forced to remember that “he who the Son sets free, is free indeed.”
There’s no taking this girl back to the slavery that nearly consumed her once upon a time. Never again.
Will you join me over at The Faith Collective this weekend where I share the why and more importantly the Who? I know we’d love to see you!
Will you also join us over at the
Faith ‘n Friends Blog Hop linkup over
at Deb’s Counting My Blessings?
Would love to see you there!